


Last Kiss

by Bibanana



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Inspired by that prompt you've probably seen but I can't find it right now, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Poor Sherlock, SAAAD, Sad, Short One Shot, Song: Last Kiss (Taylor Swift), cry, heed the tags, really really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibanana/pseuds/Bibanana
Summary: Sherlock had imagined the first time his lips touched John’s.Never, in any of Sherlock’s fantasies, was this how it happened.27, 28, 29, 30.Open your eyes.Come on, John. Open your damn eyes.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	Last Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write Johnlock so I sat in front of an empty Google Doc with Taylor Swift playing, wondering what to write. When Last Kiss came on, that prompt that I can't find right now came to mind.

Sherlock had imagined the first time his lips touched John’s. There were so many scenarios, so many possibilities. Perhaps they would have been high on adrenaline after a particularly exhilarating case, keeling over in an attempt to catch their breath. Sirens blaring around them, a murderer getting dragged away in handcuffs, the echoes of gunshots ringing in the back of their mind. There would be no sign of who moved in first, no hesitant leaning in, trying to catch the other’s eye like in the dramas. It would be sudden and perfect.

Or maybe it was one morning at the flat. Sherlock would be doing some experiment in the kitchen, still in his robe. John would come downstairs in a clean shirt and trousers, hair wet from just having taken a shower. He would walk into the kitchen to get breakfast and Sherlock would tell him not to use the microwave; the remnants of a failed experiment could be quite poisonous. John would sigh and tell him that he had better clean that up, but he wasn’t actually angry. Then, he would laugh that beautiful laugh of his and Sherlock wouldn’t be able to resist it anymore. He would stand up and take John’s face in his hands and their lips would brush and-

Never, in any of Sherlock’s fantasies, was this how it happened.

Sherlock’s hands were stained with John’s blood and his face with warm, salty tears. His fingers were interlaced as he shoved the heel of his palm down into John’s chest with all of his strength.

_ 27, 28, 29, 30. _

_ Open your eyes. _

Sherlock pressed his mouth desperately onto John’s, forcing air into his limp body.

__ _ Come on, John. Open your damn eyes. _

__ There were sirens, like Sherlock had imagined, but they weren’t comforting background music, no, instead they were loud and obnoxious and intruding. Sherlock’s head was pounding and his vision swimming and he felt sick. He kept thrusting his hand down, willing John to take a breath.

Voices.

Paramedics swarmed in from all sides, forcing Sherlock back, hovering over John. A hand landed on Sherlock’s shoulder. Lestrade. He was speaking, what was he saying?

Sherlock staggered backwards, trying to breathe. They lifted John up. Zipped him into a black bag. Was that a body bag?

_ No, no, no, no, no. _

__ “NO!” Sherlock lunged at them.  _ Body bags are for dead people. John’s not dead. What are you doing? He won’t be able to breathe in there. _

Someone was pulling on his arm, pulling him away from John. Lestrade again.

“What are they doing?” Sherlock whispered weakly. “Stop them. Please.”

Lestrade eyes were filled with sadness. “Oh, Sherlock. I’m so sorry.” He murmured gently.

The world spun, bile building in his throat.  _ No. This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening. _

Sherlock’s vision tunneled as reality crashed down around him and everything faded to black.

Silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, and I strongly recommend listening to Last Kiss by Taylor Swift. I might do another chapter, but maybe not so, for now, it's completed.


End file.
